They're In the Water
by bulletproof trucker hats
Summary: A collection of Leviathan-centric drabbles.  Rating varies according to chapter.
1. Falling Deeper

_I wasn't strong enough_

That was the last thought Castiel had before the Leviathans took over his vessel, and then, all he could think was-

_trapped trapped pain weakness all my fault death destruction __all my fault_

-He could see everything, feel everything, hear everything, but it _wasn't him_. It was the Leviathans, and they laughed, as he screamed and fought to free himself from them-

_let me out trapped let me out no__nono__ all my fault_

-And then, they walked into the water, and, in that split second before they dispersed, he _knew_ their plan-

_oh Father nonono all my fault_

-But he couldn't stop them. He was too weak-

_not strong enough broken broken trapped useless all my fault_

_-_That was Castiel's last thought, before the Leviathans burst out of him-

_ripping tearing pain oh Father make it stop stop please no all my fault_

_-_And then Castiel knew no more.


	2. A Whole New World

When Castiel says that the books are going to become the gospel of a new world, they always expected it was because they'd be able to save it.

They'd pop Lucifer back in the box and beat down the dicks with wings and fuck up the demons and just shoot every son of a bitch that thought that humans died easy.

(That was the plan. That wasn't how it worked out.)

They were so full of hope then, even if they didn't feel like it, and they thought they could be the heroes this world needed, even they weren't the ones it deserved. (Dean would like the Batman reference, if he were still around to read it.)

And then the Leviathans came.

They tried to fight, they really did, but Leviathans were worse than 'shifters, taking any appearance they so chose, and more ruthless, and _they ate people_.

They were everywhere and everyone and even though the Winchester's has always felt that the whole world was against them, it never really was, until the Leviathans.

And Cas was gone.

The angel, their ace in the hole, their _friend_, _wasn't_ anymore. He was a Leviathan walking around in Castiel's skin, and it hurt all the more because Cas had been the one to set them loose.

It's not actually surprising how fast humanity fell.

Most of them are slaves (_or food_) to the Leviathans now.

There's no hope, no resistance, nothing except what the Leviathans want, because this is the Leviathans world now, and they're going to use it up until there's nothing to use up anymore, and after that, who knows?

But the Leviathans don't know that there _is_ hope.

(Most of the humans don't realize it's _hope_, either. It's a story to tell in the dark, to keep the nightmares from their children, even though the nightmares are so very _real_ nowadays.)

It's books.

Beautiful, heroic books, about The Righteous Man and his little brother, and how they fought and fought and fought, until they couldn't fight anymore, and even then, they still fought. For _them_.

They fought Heaven and Hell and Earth, demons and angels and wee beasties, things that the humans know all too well now.

There's hope in Dean and Sammy, the Winchester boys, even if they're not around anymore, because they've _proved_ that, even against all the odds and things more powerful and evil than they could have imagined, humans can still be heroes.

They can fight.

They can win.

They can _live._

(There are Sam and Dean girls again, even if they have to hide it from the Leviathans. There's fanfiction going around, about Sam and Dean and Cas- and not all of it is PG. There's a trend going around, of wearing denim and leather, even though it's so hard to come by.)

Humanity's not dead yet.

When Cas told them there's be The Winchester Gospels, they never even _imagined_ this. But this is how it turned out, even if they're not here to see it. They're just doing what they've always done.

Saving people, hunting things.

(_Spreading hope, when there is no hope._)

The family business.

_- Chuck Shurley, Prophet of the Lord_


	3. Closer to Heaven

Rated: M

* * *

><p>Sometimes Dean wonders why he stays.<p>

The Leviathan's _nothing _like Cas, _nothing_, but it _looks _like him, and that's enough for Dean to stay, some days.

Some days it's harder. Some days he remembers that this is a monster wearing his (maybe more than a) friend's face, and he remembers that he's supposed to hate this _thing_, and he thinks that it would be so easy, _so fucking easy_, to just kill it and run.

And then he looks down at his arms and sees the scars and remembers the_last_time he tried that, and now, didn't _that _just turn out too damn well?

(The point is, of course, that it _didn't _turn out well, he'd gotten people, good people, killed, trying that, and it was his fault, all his fault, _his damn fault._)

The Leviathan doesn't seem to mind him all that much anymore.

He remembers when it'd first come to him, and it just _hated _him so much, and all it wanted to do was kill him. It hadn't, at the time, and had left after some banter and threats, and Dean hadn't told Sammy that a Leviathan had come a 'calling.

It was the same thing the next time and the time after that and the time after _that_, again and again and again, and finally Dean's tired of seeing the Leviathan's (_Castiel's_) face and he asks-

"Why don't you just go ahead and kill me, already?"

The Leviathan looks almost as surprised as him when it says-

"I don't think I _can_."

Dean takes that as a reassurance that Cas is still _in _there, still fighting, and that someday, he'll come back and Dean can finally say those three little words and everything will stop spinning and his world will be right-side-up again.

(He was wrong. So so _so _wrong. Cas is gone, and not coming back, and all that's left is a Leviathan in his body.)

So finally, Dean is the one to go to the Leviathan and he says-

"Y'know, if you're just going to follow me around, I might as well save you the trouble and come with you."

(Because at this point, he still thinks there's something worth saving, he thinks that Castiel is still in there.)

It's the first time he sees the Leviathan smile, and for a moment he can pretend it's Castiel, because that's_Cas'_smile, even if it's not Cas smiling it, and he can just _pretend._

The pretending lasts right up until he sees the Leviathan murder someone.

It's no one Dean knows, just some poor kid, probably a runaway, in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he made the mistake of pissing the monster off, so it'd shoved a hand through the kid's chest and_ eaten _him.

It licks Castiel's lips once it's done, and Dean just sits there, huddled in on himself, shivering, because _this thing is not Cas._ Cas would_never_do something like that, no matter _how _messed up he'd been.

And then the _thing _looks over at him, with that _smile_, the one Cas used to use, and holds out it's hand- the one that had just been in that kid's chest cavity- and says-

"Oh, how rude of me, not sharing."

Dean's mind blanks for a second, because this thing is _not _suggesting what he _thinks _it's suggesting, but he hesitates a moment too long and the Leviathan's not smiling anymore, and it goes-

"Here. _Have some._"

And pretty much shoves it's hand into his mouth, until all he can taste is blood, blood, _blood_, and he can't tell if it's his or the kid's.

(That's the first thing the Leviathan has him do, but not the last.)

They're sitting in a house- it's not his, and probably not the Leviathan's, but the owners haven't come 'round to complain yet, and Dean's actually terrified by what the _thing _may do to them.

Dean's sitting there, thinking, about Sammy, about Cas, about Heaven and Hell, and everything that's pushed him to this point.

Sometimes, he thinks the Leviathan _knows _when he's thinking too hard, because it just looks at him, smiling that _smile_at him and says-

"Dean, why don't you come here?"

That smile's always what gets Dean, because no matter how much he _knows _that Cas isn't around anymore, as much as he _knows _this is a monster wearing his friend like clothing it chose at a department store, that smile is so much _Castiel_, that, for a second, he forgets or pretends or however he manages to cope, and he walks over to the thing.

The Leviathan's sprawled out on the couch in a way that Dean had only seen Cas do when he was unconscious and unable to sit up (but this _isn't _Cas anymore, so why the hell should it do _anything _like Cas used to do, except for that damn _smile_.)

It gestures to its belt, and says-

"I'm feeling a little _constricted_. Why don't you help me get these off, and then, you can put those lips of yours to good use."

It's not a question.

It's never a question, and if Dean tries to object, if he tries in any damn way to do something the Leviathan doesn't want him to do-

"Ah, no no _no_," the Leviathan murmurs, threading a hand through his hair. "You're _thinking_. You know I don't _like _it when you _think_. Get to work, Dean."

Dean hesitates just a moment longer, and then looks down at his arms and the scars, and then up at the Leviathan wearing Castiel's smile, and, well, really, what choice does he have?

(It's all his _fault_, _always _his fault, _everything _is his fault, _his dam fault_, and this is his only option.)

Sometimes, it's enough that the Leviathan's wearing Castiel's face.


	4. Love You Like A Brother

Rated: M

Takes place in 'Slash Fiction', when the Leviathan has Sam trapped in the interrogation room.

* * *

><p>It was Dean.<p>

It walked like Dean.

It talked like Dean.

It _was_ Dean.

But…

It wasn't. It was a _Leviathan_, a fucking _Leviathan_, and it was wearing his brother's face to kill him, and maybe that hurt more than if it had _his_ face on.

The Leviathan was talking- something about Amy, Amy being dead, Amy being killed, Dean killing Amy- but, Sam just…he couldn't _stand_ looking at Dean- his big brother, his _hero_- when it was a monster behind that familiar face.

Finally, the Leviathan seemed to clue into the fact that Sam wasn't paying strict attention to what it was saying. He grabbed Sam by the hair- and wouldn't _Dad_ have something to say about that, letting his hair get long enough that something could get a good grip on it.

"Oh, no no _no_, Sammy, we _listen_ when big brother is talking." the Leviathan hissed.

It was talking in Dean's voice, and it physically _hurt_ Sam to listen to him, describe in bloody detail what the Leviathans were going to do.

"-but _first_, I'm going to _fuck_ you, Sammy." The whisper, in his ear, in Dean's voice, made him flinch. "Oh, _that_ got your attention, didn't it?"

Sam tried to shake his head, but the Leviathan had kept that tight grip on his hair.

"Don't try to deny it. You _want_ Dean-o to fuck you. We're in your noggin, Sammy, we know _everything._ I'm going to slam you against this table, and fuck you, and you'll come, screaming Dean's name, and _then_, I'm going to kill you."

"…_no_…" Sam whispered, and the Leviathan grinned in delight.

"_Yeeeeeeessssss_. And I'm not _just_ going to kill you, Sammy. I'm going to _eat_ you. But let's not linger on _that_. Let's go back to the whole _fucking_ you part. Let's say Dean-o _somehow_ manages to get in here, just in time to play hero. Well…_try_ to play hero. What do you suppose he's going to see?"

"_Stop!_" Sam tried to snap, but by now, the Leviathan was pressing him against the interrogation table, and all that came out was a weak wheeze.

The Leviathan ignored him, continued speaking.

"He's going to see _him_. Fucking his little brother into a table. And little brother is going to be _moaning_ his name, _begging_ him for more. And I'm not going to _stop_, just because big brother is on the scene, Sammy. Dean gets to _watch_, as I fuck you, as I kill you, as I _eat_ you. And there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me, Sammy."

Later on, when the Leviathans were dead, and they were safe- well, as safe as a Winchester could _get_, nowadays, anyway- Sam chose to leave, rather than actually talk it over with Dean. Because even if the Leviathan was dead, Sam could still hear it whispering in his ear, describing exactly what he wanted from his brother.


	5. Ever After

They still remember when it meant something to be a Winchester boy.

Being a Winchester used to mean they were the bravest, the best, the _heroes_. They saved people, and didn't expect to be thanked, because they were just doing the family business- Saving people, hunting things.

Hunters used to want to _be_ them.

Back when Bobby used to send them on hunts, and Ellen told people about them in the Roadhouse ("They're crazy as hell and too pretty for their own good, but they're Winchester boys, alright." she'd say, with a shrug and a smile.)

Back when there were things that were scared of Sam and Dean, those damn Winchesters.

That was back when all they'd had to deal with was angels and demons and Apocalypses, and sometimes, the Big Bad of the week. Before the Leviathans.

The Leviathans came, they saw, they conquered, and they didn't stop there.

It doesn't mean much to be a Winchester boy anymore.

Now, they're not the heroes, they're not going to save anyone, because they're too busy running, trying to save themselves.

(No one talks about the Winchester boys anymore. Most of the Hunters are dead and gone at this point, and they're beginning to suspect they're the only two left.)

Now, they're the two crazy fools who thought they could take on the world, those two that all the Leviathans are after, and they're running, running, running.

Not even humans will give them shelter anymore.

(Not that there are all that many humans left, and the ones that _are,_well, some things are better left unsaid.)

Bobby's been gone a while, Ellen even longer, and John'd left them before he'd even died.

There's not one to help them anymore, and it doesn't mean much to be a Winchester boy.

But it _used_ to mean something.

And some days, that's all they have to keep them running.


	6. How It Used to Be

Rated: T

* * *

><p>When Cas comes out of the water, Dean's just happy that there aren't black veins on his face anymore.<p>

(Sam's a little skeptical, because they'd _seen_ how OP the Leviathans were, and Bobby has some sort of head trauma right now, and he's too out of it to be suspicious of _anything_ at the moment.)

But Dean's just happy that Cas is back, because he's lost too damn much and he doesn't want to lose anyone or anything else.

(He hands Castiel back his trenchcoat, and he immediately tries to shrug into it, and Dean smiles, because it's such a _Cas_ thing, it's so painfully familiar, and for the moment, he can ignore the coldness in his angel's eyes.)

They bundle him into the Impala, and they drive Bobby back to his place, and then go find a motel nearby, because no matter how much Bobby loves them, there's just some times a man has to lick his wounds in peace.

It's late, by the time they check into the motel, and it's dirty and dank in a way that they've become all too used to, and Cas doesn't complain.

He's too busy looking at Dean- _hungrily_, almost, Sam thinks later, when they know what'd happened.

(Maybe that's the first thing that should have tipped them off. Too late for regrets now.)

Sam just assumes that Cas hasn't had that much opportunity for any… _cloud_ _seeding_, even _before_ the Leviathan/Purgtory/God shit-storm hit, so he makes some half-assed excuse about heading to a store to pick up food or something, and leaves Dean and Cas alone.

Dean barely notices that Sam's left, because he's staring at Castiel like he's a glass of water, and Dean's lived his whole life in the desert. Like he's something precious, valuable, something to cherished.

(Cas, on the other hand, is eyeing Dean like he's a bloody steak, and he's a hungry lion.)

"Cas…"

Dean breathes out the angel's name like a prayer, and Cas smirks at him, and suddenly, he's on top of Dean, pressing him down, and Dean feels so damn _trapped,_ and that should _not_ be such a turn on for him, not in his line of work.

Cas is studying him like a bug under a microscope, and says- "This body has memories of…human copulation, which I find…_intriguing_."

(It takes a moment for the words to register with Dean, but they finally do, and he lets out a noise he later denies is a moan.)

Castiel's smirk widens, and he's suddenly doing something with his hands that makes Dean wish that he'd manned up to having a serious case of the chick-flick moment for Cas _waaaaay_ before all this 'God of a new world' crap.

And then, Cas opens his mouth, and Dean blinks, flinching away in horror, because Castiel's mouth is distorting, widening, gaining more teeth, getting too close to his face for comfort.

When Sam comes back, there's blood pretty much everywhere, and Cas is gone.

So's Dean.

There's a note on the wall, scrawled in a messy, bloody scribble-

"_Thanks for the snack. Be back later, Sammy_."


	7. In Which Crowley Hates Dick

Rated: T

* * *

><p>It'd been a necessary, calculated risk on Crowley's part, talking to Dick Roman, but the path to power is paved with risks, and Crowley hadn't become the King of Hell by sitting pretty on the sidelines and waving his demonic pom-poms.<p>

He'd expected them to keep an eye on him, now that he'd brought himself to their attention. For all of Dick's talk of being bigger and better than Crowley, Crowley's still a player in this game, and the Leviathans would be stupid to not keep track of all the pieces in play.

That doesn't stop him from being insulted when he sees they've only set _one_ pair of eyes on him.

(The Leviathan's in the body of a teenage boy- "Call me Alec." it says, with a disarming grin, holding out a hand to shake. Crowley doesn't take it- he's not _stupid_.)

It's a stupid, little game, just a sideshow to what's really going on- but Alec pretends to be harmless, and Crowley sends a rather unfortunate underling with a fruit basket, saying 'Welcome to the neighborhood'.

(Alec's on his doorstep the next day, to give him back the basket- untouched, except that all the strawberries are missing. There's a splatter of something that might be fruit juice- or blood- on the handle. "Thanks for the snack, man." Alec says. The underling never comes back.)

The Leviathan shows up in his kitchen one morning, sitting on the counter, looking innocent, human, normal, when it's anything but. Crowley doesn't ask how it got in, because the Leviathans are strong enough to rip though his wards like they're tissue paper, but it's nice to have a sense of security, no matter how false it is.

"How're you doing, Crowles?" it asks, legs swinging in the air. "Being a busy little demon? What kind of interesting plots are you scheming? You should tell me about them. Over dinner."

(There's no appropriate response to that, and Alec saunters out of the room, winking at Crowley.)

At first, Crowley assumes it's a ploy to make him lower his guard, and he's wary- right up until the Leviathan wanders into his dining room, and announces- "I brought dessert."

(It'd brought _apple pie_, of all things. "Say what you will about Dean Winchester." it tells him. "But the man has great taste in food." There's a silent '_of the nonhuman variety_' somewhere in that statement, but Crowley chooses to ignore it.)

Dinner's quiet for as long as Alec's stuffing it's face- when his mouth _isn't_ full, it's keeping up a mocking commentary of all the major players in the current apocalypse.

(Crowley gains a new appreciation for the Leviathan after it makes fun of Sam Winchester's hair.)

"Y'know," it says idly. "I _volunteered_ for demon-watch."

Crowley raises an eyebrow. "Why in Hell would you do something like _that_?"

Alec grins at him. "Dick _hates_ you."

(It doesn't answer the question, but Crowley's gotten to know the Leviathan well enough that it actually kind of _does_.)

There's a moment of almost-companionable silence, and it's almost _nice_, and that's just _not allowed_, and it's not a surprise when Alec speaks up.

"We should fuck."

Crowley freezes, forkful of pie halfway to his mouth, and thinks about checking his meatsuit's hearing, because there's just _no way_-

"I'm serious. We should fuck."

No, he'd heard it right the first time, but it doesn't make any more sense the second time hearing it.

"There's no reason we should." he says.

"There's no reason we _shouldn't_." the Leviathan shoots back. "Come on, _I'm_ in a hormonal teenage boy, _you're_ hot, let's get horizontal and _do_ something about it. The sexual tension is making me want to _eat_ someone."

(Crowley actually kind of agrees- minus the 'eating people' bit- but he's evil, not suicidal, and he's not just going to get into bed with a _Leviathan_, just because he hasn't gotten his rocks off since Gabriel went and got himself killed.)

"Would it help if I looked like someone different?" Alec offers. "The Winchesters. Their pet angel. Bobby Singer, if trucker hats and stubble is your thing."

"No, no, no, and _bloody_ no." Crowley snaps, thinking of golden eyes and blonde hair and candy utilized in devilishly complicated sexual maneuvers. "Get out of my house."

Alec shrugs and brushes by him, and Crowley assumes that they're done.

Crowley's not expecting anyone, when he walks into his house. No one visits him unannounced anymore, not since Gabriel died, and he's gotten used to his villa being dark and quiet when he walks in.

He's certainly not expecting Gabriel, sitting on the end of his bed, looking at a picture of them he doesn't remember keeping.

(It's one of the rare pictures where Gabe isn't moving, and they're both in it- Gabriel had swung an arm over Crowley's shoulder and pulled him close, taking the picture above them with his other hand, and Crowley had complained that he felt like a bloody teenage girl, but Gabe's smiling in the picture, a big, shit-eating grin, and Crowley's not exactly glaring.)

Except this thing is _obviously_ not Gabriel, because Gabriel's _dead_, and Gabriel's not Castiel, he doesn't have a perpetual Get-Out-of-Death-Free card, and Crowley very much suspects that God, like Elvis, is not in the building anymore.

"You're not Gabriel." he informs the thing that looks so very _much_ like Gabriel.

Not-Gabriel smirks at him, a familiar expression. "Of course I'm not, cupcake." he says, and then, gets up to look at himself in a conveniently placed mirror. "Huh. Thought I'd be taller."

(Crowley can't help himself- it's too much like the banter they used to have- "You always _were_ a short little bastard.")

But this isn't Gabriel, and it'd make him sick, if he had morals to get sick about. It's a Leviathan, using Gabriel's body for it's own purposes, it's own amusement.

(He's a demon, he has precious _few_ morals, but it almost makes him sick anyway.)

But for all that it's _not_ Gabriel, for all that it's a Leviathan- it _is_ Gabriel, in the wicked gleam of his eyes, in the way he's doing obscene things to the lollipop in his mouth.

The Leviathan's watching him, and it pulls the lollipop out of it's mouth with a wet '_pop_'.

(It's cherry, apparently, and it's stained Gabriel's lips an unholy shade of red.)

"Well, guess trucker hats and stubble really _weren't _your thing." it comments, and there's a flare of movement behind it, and now it's got Gabriel's wings out.

(Crowley licks his lips, completely conscious of the noises Gabriel had made the last time he'd brought his wings out to play during sex.)

The Leviathan's walking toward him now, a hand trailing along the waistband of it's pants, wings unfurling behind it, and _it has him_.

"So, what d'you say to helping me break in the new body, Crowles?"

(It's not the right nickname- Gabriel's nicknames had always been 'cupcake' or 'sweetcheeks' or something that sounded more edible than endearing. But it doesn't matter because the Leviathan is talking with Gabriel's mouth, and Crowley hadn't realized how much he'd missed this ass until right now.)

The Leviathan-_Gabriel_- is close enough to touch him now, and it does- yanks him into a kiss that'll probably bruise.

That's not how Gabriel used to kiss- kissing Gabriel was soft and slow and lazy, and it tasted like sugar and artificial coloring. Kissing Gabriel _now_ is harsh and demanding, and Crowley can taste-smell the sharp, salty tang of blood.

The difference then-Gabriel and now-Gabriel doesn't stop Crowley from threading his hands through golden wings, and _pulling_, until Gabriel lets out a broken, strangled whimper-moan.

(Crowley can feel the Leviathan smirking against his mouth. "Huh, that was a _trip_." it murmurs. "Do it _again_.")

Crowley complies because he never could deny Gabriel much- and even if it's not Gabriel, it _looks_ like him, and that about all that matters right now.


End file.
